


Maybe, Baby

by Eliniita



Category: Green Arrow (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Family Fluff, Good Parent Oliver Queen, POV First Person, Teenage Drama, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24299236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliniita/pseuds/Eliniita
Summary: Roy has some unexpected news for Ollie...Fluff.
Relationships: Roy Harper/Jade Nguyen
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Maybe, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Just needed to write SOMETHING to distract myself from the stresses of the last week of school xD My first time trying POV in first person...hopefully it wasn't a total fail.

-Roy-

Oliver _tried_ to smile at me when I shoved the door open and walked inside the house, making a face at the odd scene in front of me. Ollie was patting a covered up pillow? Oh wait, no. Just a sleepy toddler who sat up, rubbed his eyes, and started to cry loudly when the door I had slammed shut made a loud sound. Oops.

"Fuck. Shit. Damn it all to hell…" Ollie never had any problems expressing his feelings and frustrations.

"...Sorry." I mumbled before running upstairs to the safety of my room, with only one word on my brain. _**Why?**_ Was this happening to **me**? Hadn't I already gone through my fair share of bullshit to last a lifetime? Being adopted by Oliver Queen had its perks, sure, but he'd also driven me to drugs- I promise that on a good day, I'd take some accountability for that- but it was not a good day.

So, the drugs had definitely been Ollie's fault...

It didn't exactly help that he'd kicked me out then, and I wondered if he would do the same thing now. No matter how I tried to excuse him, with thoughts like, 'He's married now, has a real kid and everything...', 'I was planning on moving out next year anyway', 'I don't even like living here...' I knew it would hurt just the same. It didn't matter what pretty lies I told myself.

All this was going through my mind, and so maybe that's why I didn't notice when Ollie stopped at my door, cranky baby in his arms, looking like shit, to be honest. Dinah was on assignment, and this was his first time alone with the kid. Neither seemed to know what they were doing. I certainly hadn't been of any help.

My adorable baby brother was in footy pajamas that seemed too big, and the little one had a bottle in his hands- I was pretty sure Dinah had weaned him off of the bottle a couple of months ago, but somehow I knew to keep that information to myself. Oliver was in sweatpants and a stained white t-shirt. What the hell was that? chocolate? coffee? Shit?

"It's Tuesday." Ollie said it as if he wasn't entirely sure. I nodded slowly. Very slowly. Could I lie about it?

"Uh, yeah..." I opted for honesty.

Oliver gave me a look, like he didn't know what to do with me, like he hadn't slept in days...which was quite possible, honestly. The baby in his arms started to cry even more; wiggling, and extending his arms towards me.

Damn.

When Dinah and Oliver had first told me they were expecting, I had scowled- not on purpose, I promise, but what kind of shitty people tell a guy he's going to be an older brother by extending him a paper bag with a pissed on stick inside? It had been cruel. And disgusting. I had told them I wanted to puke...and then I'd seen their disappointed faces and I had no choice but to hug them and try to reassure them, me, a 15 year old at the time, had needed to hug and reassure my 'parents'. Typical.

But anyway, I hadn't been thrilled. It meant that I'd probably get kicked out of the house...again...

Who wanted a rude, angry, drug addicted teenager when they could have a perfect, angelic, biological baby? Sometimes the thought still kept me up at night. Oliver hadn't been looking for a son when he met me, he'd never wanted to be a father...

And he hadn't been, not really, we'd been...mentor and apprentice, teacher and student, legal guardian and ward of the state...

He was the father of Connor, and it upset me and made me jealous and I hated the world when I pondered on it... BUT, whenever the dumb little kid extended his arms toward me, like he was doing then, all was right in the world, and I felt genuinely loved. For the first time in my life, I felt like someone could love me unconditionally, and I could love him in the same way.

Yeah, yeah, I know, maybe it wasn't something to be proud of, the fact that I needed the love of a 18 month old who had barely learned to walk...

Still, I took the little toddler out of Oliver's arms and hugged him, rocking him gently, and the wails immediately stopped. Ollie scrunched up his eyebrows, and he reminded me of a confused golden retriever.

"Why does he love you so much? I'm the Dad around here..."

"Yeah, but you're also a boring, egoistical brat..." Look at me, still opting for honesty, despite the frown it earned me.

"Don't be rude. Why aren't you at school?"

"It was a half day..." Alright, so the honesty didn't last long.

Unfortunately, Oliver didn't always choose to ignore my lies. He walked over to sit next to me, caressing Connor's hair, and then my own.

"I'm not a kid..." I huffed, despite myself.

"Yeah, you are. You're MY dumb kid that thinks he can lie to me. What's going on?" He was being nice and patient, damn it, why did he have to be nice and patient? If he was being crabby, yell-y, asshole-y Ollie, I could scowl and swear at him until he go annoyed and left me alone, but this was 'Dad mode' Oliver Queen. This was 'I'm trying, son' Oliver Queen.

I thought about it- I really didn't want to get kicked out a month before the school year ended. And I still had all of senior year to go. Oliver WOULD kick me out. He just would. I was convinced.

"...Nothing."

Ollie frowned and took his baby back, taking away my protection.

"You know I don't like when you lie."

"... It's not like you should care..."

" _Excuse me?_ " I saw how his understanding features turned into ones that said, 'I'm annoyed about other things, and fully prepared to take my anger out on you, so don't push it'. Yes, he said all that with one annoying look.

"...Ollie..."

"Roy."

* * *

-Oliver-

I'm staring at him with a frown, I know it, and I can't help myself. I know that's he's lying to me, and it makes my body tense up, my face harden, my mind race, and suddenly the baby in my arms is wiggling even more because he can probably sense the bad aura.

Does it make me a bad father that I immediately think of the drugs?

Probably, but that's how I deal with it. The lies, any lie, makes me look for clues. Has he been secretive? Has he been wearing long sleeves? Is he hurting himself? Is he hiding pills, or syringes in my house?- in my house where an 18 month old just learned to walk?

I could never handle it well when it came to an overdose...who _would?_ 911, stomach pump, prayers to a God I don't believe in, anger. That's how that usually went. The first time I found him with his drugs, I couldn't help the ugly, raging, unforgiving anger.

It hadn't been difficult, in the moment, to slap him across the face, to kick him out, blame him for everything...

It was easier than looking myself in the mirror and admitting my faults in the whole mess. I'd always be jealous of Dinah and the relationship she shared with my son, but as she had been the one to take him in that night- to hug him through his own anger and despair, to stay up all night as he suffered for hours on end...

Well, I knew I didn't have a right to be jealous. She always knew the right thing to do and say... _She_ saved my little boy, and that's when I knew I could not love her more.

And even still, as I look into perfectly terrified green orbs, I can't seem to find softness in my tone.

"You're lying to me, and I hate that. What's up?" My tone insisted, as the child in my arms pulled at my hair, probably condemning me for judging his brother- or missing nap time.

"I...uh... I'm not ..." Roy continued to lie to my face, which made my anger go from a solid 3 to an 8 instantly, he was wonderfully talented at making me lose my cool.

"Just spit it out! What is it? Do I need to check the car? Is it going to need another paint job? Do I need to call and book you a stint in rehab again? _What?!_ What is it?"

"Fuck! Stop yelling!" Roy's green orbs were suddenly on fire, because admittedly, I was gifted at saying all the wrong things to him.

Connor brought us both down to earth by sobbing loudly- making Roy and I wince. Fuck, he had some lungs on him...

* * *

-Roy-

I winced and covered my ears as Oliver stood up and bounced Connor, whispering sweet nothings to him- which of course didn't help at all. The little bundle continued to squirm and throw himself back like a possessed creature from the underworld. Until I pulled out my phone, looked up his favorite song and played it.

In 5 seconds he was giggling, and 'dancing'. Ollie set him down and we both stood there for a few minutes, watching the little imp bounce up and down to the dumbest song in the world- something about pizza toppings.

"You're so good with him...the best brother in the world..." Oliver started, all anger gone from his voice and it allowed me to relax. He was looking at me in the way he always looked at Dinah and Connor. Like **I** hung the moon.

"Look Roy, I'm sorry. I know I need to trust you...and I do..."

"You don't." It wasn't a secret.

"Fine, I don't, but I want to...Is something going on?"

Shit. I wasn't expecting a straightforward question, and so I had no choice but to sigh, and take the biggest inhale, followed by an exhale that lasted so long, Ollie eventually walked over and put both hands on my shoulders- and it reminded how strong he was. How he felt _safe_. Always.

"There's nothing that we can't solve. You're my son, and as long as I am alive...we're going to work together to solve any problem that you have."

"...Jade's pregnant, Ollie." I whispered it, and then I laughed. As if it were a joke- cause it had to be, right? I was in some sort of nightmare, and it had to be fake, and a joke, and I was going to wake up at any second and all would be right in the world.

I waited.

_And waited._

_And waited._

Nothing doing.

Eventually my manic laughter turned into sobs, and even though my eyes were blurry with tears, and I was pretty sure Connor had stopped listening to music to stare at the odd scene, Oliver didn't let go of my shoulders. There was no slap. No yelling. No punching of walls...

"Okay."

_Okay?_

Okay? What the hell?

"...Okay?"

He nodded and squeezed my shoulders in support, and in an instant I knew I wasn't going to get kicked out.

"I mean..." It was clear he was struggling to find the words. "I mean... this isn't... what I had expected to hear, but..."

I had to close my eyes, because he hadn't ruined it yet, and I wanted to stay in that moment for a second longer...

"I...I... think we should..."

* * *

-Ollie.-

Well, _fuck._

All the curse words I know are running through my head in a constant loop, and so it's hard to find comforting words for him.

_Gottverdammt !_

I don't know exactly what to do, or say, but I do know that I don't want him to feel alone, and I don't want him to leave, and yeah, this isn't what I want for him...

"You think we should ...what?" Roy finally manages to ask, and I let all pretense go out the window, so we can hug.

"I don't know..." Especially not now as he clings on to me and I see him more as a child than I have in years.

17.

He can't be a father, ' _I'_ can barely be a father, and yet, I have to admit that he's the person Connor wants when he's crabby and cold. Roy can make my child smile and stop crying faster than anyone.

"I think we should tell Dinah, cause she'll know what to do. She'll help us get ready. Damn. I just can't believe I'm going to be a grandpa. Is that even fair to all the other grandpas? I'm so young, and good looking, and hilarious, and your kid is going to love me so much-"

He starts to laugh, and this time it's genuine- full of relief and comfort...

"Ollie, you're not THAT young, you're actually pretty damn old to have a baby."

"Shut your heathen mouth!" I scoff, but maybe it's true.

"What do _you_ think, Connor?" He let's me go to pick up the baby. "Is your daddy super old? Yeah? Who is SUPER old?" He asks, and of course my traitor son points to me.

"Cookie."

"That's right. He's old, but at least he buys us cookies...and makes us feel better and shit." My teenager rambles, and I know I'll probably have to go out tonight and take my frustrations out on some poor criminal, but for now, I can take things as they come, and just be with my boys.

It's easy to walk over and wrap them both in a hug.

"...Don't say shit." I admonish, though I'd really like to say, 'I love you', instead.

End.


End file.
